The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
